The Winchester Sisters:What Is And Should Never Be
by Isobel Morgan
Summary: What would Supernatural have been like if it had been about sisters instead of brothers? Following my reboot of the pilot with female leads, this is an adaptation of the Djinn episode, featuring Tara and Alexis Winchester.
1. Chapter 1

A couple of people have asked me if I planned to 'convert' every episode, and while the day job doesn't _quite_ allow for that, this one escaped, mostly because it gave me the chance to play around with my versions of the characters.

For anyone who didn't read the pilot reboot I posted – Tara is the female Dean and Alex/Lexie is Sam. There are a few differences, but the characters and situation are essentially the same.

**What Is And What Should Never Be**

**I**

"Oh man, I need a vacation," Tara groaned, turning the Impala off the highway onto yet another dark back road.

"I cannot remember the last time I got enough sleep. Maybe I should just run away and join the circus."

Alex glanced up from their father's diary in her lap long enough to give her big sister a weary look.

"It's a sign how crappy your job is when you think lion taming would be the quiet life."

"Lion taming? Hell, I'd be up on the trapeze!"

"You suck at heights," Alex pointed out. "And you told me if I ever saw you wearing spandex or glitter, I was to shoot you in the head."

Tara shrugged, cheerfully.

"Still, I'd give it a shot. How 'bout you, Lexie?"

"Uh, no, thanks. My life is enough of a freak show already. I get the chance for a quiet life, I'm going back to Stanford."

Tara pulled a face, turning her head so Alex wouldn't see. But Alex knew her sister too well.

"What?" Alex demanded. "You got something to say to me?"

"No, not at all," was Tara's reply, sounding utterly unconvincing.

"I can't believe you're still holding onto the idea of college. Not exactly compatible with hunting, is it?"

"No real reason why not," Alex shot back. "It was you and Dad that had the problem, not me. You're the ones who saw it as me running away, deserting you."

"I never said that."

"No, but Dad did. And you made it pretty clear whose side you were on."

"It wasn't about sides!" Tara protested, but Alex wasn't done.

"And it's not like you never ran off either," Alex pointed out.

"Who was that guy, the metaller… you went off with him for, like, a week. You must have been about, what, nineteen?"

"Who, Slipknot Jerry?"

Tara laughed out loud, her mood switching rapidly at the memory.

"Oh my god, I'd forgotten all about that!"

Alex hadn't. That had been a long week for her. A _very_ long week. Until Tara came back, it had just been her and Dad, and he'd made no attempts to hide his anger at Tara's hopping on the back of some guy's motorbike and disappearing with him.

"God, he was boring. I mean, he was hot and it was fun at first, just riding around drinking and going to watch bands and stuff, just hanging out, you know. Like a regular girl. Not to mention the sex…"

"Tara!"

Alex pulled a face.

"TMI."

"What? That was pretty much what made up my mind to go with him, you know. I didn't just want a vacation."

"So, why did you come back?" Alex asked, curious. Tara had refused to talk about it at the time – hardly surprising, seeing the dressing down she'd gotten from John about it.

"Like I said, boring. Boy couldn't talk about anything that wasn't engines and music."

"Huh. Sound like anyone you know?" Alex snarked.

"Shut up."

But Tara was laughing.

"There were other things he could do with his tongue that more than made up for a lack in conversational skills."

Her eyes went a little unfocussed for a second and Alex gagged.

"T! I really don't want to know! Keep your eyes on the goddamn road, would you?"

"Lighten up, Lexie. Just cos you have no sex life to speak off, doesn't mean the rest of us feel the same way."

Alex's expression closed right up, her face blank but her voice tight with anger.

"Yeah, well, I used to have a sex life, and it was great, but then some demon thought it'd be fun to set my boyfriend on fire and now I don't have one anymore."

Silence fell in the car.

Tara glanced over at her sister, but Alex had turned her head away, staring out into the night so she couldn't see her expression.

It wasn't that she'd thought Alex was 'over' Dylan, knew it wasn't as simple as that. She'd sat by her sister's side in enough darkened motel rooms when Alex was having nightmares, calling out his name in her sleep, to know that. But she'd hoped that maybe Lex had started to, maybe, put his death behind her a little. After all, there had been that cute art guy, Sean. That had made Tara hopeful.

"We will get him."

"What?"

"Yellow Eyes," Tara insisted. "We'll get him, I promise you that."

"Yeah, well, Dad made that same promise for more than twenty years, so

you'll understand if I don't have your confidence. And even if we do, so what?"

A cold sensation began to grow in Tara's stomach at her sister's words.

"What do you mean, so what? It'll be dead! It won't hurt anyone else. That's what we do, isn't it?"

Alex resumed staring out the window.

"It's what we try to do. But we're too late, more often than not."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"We can't save everyone, can we? All those people who get killed, how many of them do you think leave family behind? Family who might, oh I don't know, spent the rest of their lives hunting down things like the one that killed their mom, or their dad or brother or sister, because we didn't get there fast enough? We try, but it's not enough. It's never enough."

"Hold up," Tara cut in. "We still talking about hunting, or Dylan?"

"What's the difference? He was the only guy I could ever see myself with. Forever. I would have married him, had kids with him, anything, but that's never gonna happen because this sonofabitch thought that killing Mom wasn't enough to screw up our lives and it killed Dylan too. So instead of spending the rest of my life with him, I get to ride around in this car, with you, hunting and listening to you tell me about all the guys you've banged. So forgive me if that doesn't do it for me."

"What do you want me to say, Lex? You're right, we can't save everyone. Does that mean we should just sit back and let the bad guys win? Give up and run off to college pretending there isn't a world of shit out there? Nothing we can do so why not just be selfish and who cares?"

Tara knew her words were harsh, but she was getting sick of this. She'd cut Alex plenty of slack on account of her grief, but that only went so far.

Alex had hit a turning point too.

"Stop the car."

"Oh, come on Lexie-"

"I said _**stop the goddamn car**_!"

Tara hit the brakes, harder than was necessary, the Impala skidding to a halt at an angle across the darkened road.

Alex reached into the backseat, grabbing her bag, and got out.

"Alex, don't be an idiot-"

"No, Tara, I'm done. I've had it, with all of this. I. Am. Done."

She slammed the door, slinging her bag over her shoulder and stalking back down the road they'd driven along.

Tara let out a frustrated, angry sigh and jammed down on the horn, a long unbroken note that, she hoped, might snap her sister out of it.

Alex didn't even look back, just kept on walking.

"Oh come on!"

For a moment, Tara just sat there, watching Alex disappear in the rearview mirror.

Then she put the car back in gear, and she drove away.

Alex wasn't a kid anymore. She could take care of herself. Maybe it was time Tara let her try, anyway; she had enough on her plate right then.

Switching her mind back to the job, Tara ran back over the info the two of them had collated in her mind – all signs pointed to a djinn, grabbing a bunch of people from an area that was rapidly widening. Well, Tara had an idea or two of how to put a stop to that.

Goddamit, just once she'd like one of the TV shows she'd watched as a kid not to be ruined by the lead character turning out to be real, if a sick and twisted version.

Ok, so Barbara Eden's Jeannie wasn't exactly a feminist role model, but the dress-up value of see-through harem pants and a bra top wasn't to be ignored, and Tara wasn't thinking of Hallowe'en.

After a few hours of what felt like pointless driving around – and a lot of Not Thinking About The Fight She'd Had With Lexie – Tara hit paydirt. Or at least, something a whole lot more promising than anything else so far, in the form of a crumbling, ruined factory building. Clearly abandoned, and just as clearly having been visited by someone – or something – fairly recently, going by the footprints Tara found on the path leading up to it, it may as well have had 'Lair of the Djinn' written above the door.

Unfortunately, finding concrete proof on how to kill this sucker, other than a suggestion of anointing a silver knife in blood (god, what was it about these things that it took such weird-assed ways to kill them?), had proven more difficult than tracking it down, so Tara planned to recce the site before going up against it, especially on her own. But she didn't need her baby sister holding her hand – if anything, it was the other way around, surely. Grabbing the knife, and stashing a few covering-all-bases weapons in her pockets for back-up, Tara crept up to the door, keeping close to the walls. Surprisingly – and unnervingly – there didn't seemed to be anyone there, nor any defences, anything like that. But she had to be sure. So Tara pushed open the door, knife at the ready in one hand, flashlight in the other, casting a beam into the darkness.

Dark… she couldn't see a damn thing. But her instincts told her this was this place. Well, when you'd spent most of your life sneaking into creepy, abandoned, probably haunted sites, you got kind of a sixth sense about these things.

So, what next? She needed to know more about this thing if she was gonna end it. And what about the victims? Swinging the flashlight, Tara went further into the darkness, down a corridor between abandoned offices, sure she could see movement up ahead.

Tara was so intent on following this, she completely missed the whisper of the creature coming up behind her until it was too late. Taken unawares, she was slammed up against the wall by an unbelievably strong pair of hands, the knife spinning away before she could stab the sonofabitch. It was too dark to see anything properly, but the thing… its eyes were glowing, an eerie blue light that made the hairs on the back of Tara's neck stand up and now the glow was spreading. One heavily tattooed hand locked around Tara's throat, pinning her to the wall so she could only watch, disgusted and horrified as the djinn raised its other hand, lit up with an ethereal blue flame and pressed it to her forehead.

For a second, the pain was excruciating, worse than a gunshot wound or electrocution, worse than anything Tara had ever felt before, burning with a cold flame that seared right into her brain.

And then she felt nothing at all.

* * *

><p>Tara jolted awake, gasping. Utter confusion rushed through her. What the hell?<p>

Last thing she remembered…she and Lexie were driving, then, oh yeah, the fight. Then… the genie! What had happened? And where was she now?

Felt like she was in bed – back at the motel? Tara struggled to her feet.

Something wasn't right. She felt heavy, bulky and her centre of balance was wrong. Maybe she's been hurt in the struggle with the djinn? Her back ached and there was a weird pressure on her bladder as she stumbled into the bathroom to pee. What had the djinn done to her? She'd never felt like this before.

She put her hand on her belly, trying to feel if anything was wrong and, oh god, what the hell was _that_?

Yanking the cord for the light, Tara rushed to the mirror.

This could not be real. This was not happening.

Tara turned sideways on, one hand on her back, the other on her belly, which was, um, larger than usual. Rounder. Sticking out in a way that really could not be mistaken for anything else.

Tara stared at her impossible reflection.

"How long was I out?"

A sudden noise from the bedroom made her glance back in. The bed she'd just gotten out of was a double, and stretched out on the other side was someone who sure as hell wasn't her sister.

Lexie. She had to call Lexie, find out what had happened.

Her cell phone was sticking out of the pocket of her jeans, sitting in a pile on the bathroom floor, and she pressed the first button on her speed-dial.

The phone rang for a long time, longer than Tara's panicked state could cope with, pacing in the tiny bathroom.

When she finally answered, Alex sounded strange.

"Tara?"

"Oh Lexie, thank god. I swear I have no idea what's going on or where I am. I just woke up – somewhere – there's a guy next to me I don't remember meeting and I think the djinn did something to me."

"Gin? You called me in the middle of the night to tell me you've been drinking gin?"

Alex sounded really pissed off, but Tara didn't have the time to think about that. They'd talk through their fight later.

"No, idiot, the Djinn. The one we were hunting, remember? It got the jump on me and then I woke up and-"

Tara hesitated.

"I think I'm - pregnant."

There was no reply.

"Lexie? You there?"

There was a weird noise, as if Alex was trying her hardest to keep something in, hold back and Tara was an inch away from telling her to just get over it when Alex spoke up.

"You really are something, aren't you? I don't believe you. It's been, what, two years? And you call me up out of the blue to tell me you two are having a baby? What the hell made you think I'd want to know that? What made you think I'd _care_?"

This time Tara didn't need any of her usual instincts to tell her that whatever was wrong here went way off the scale.

"Lexie, what-?"

"And why are you calling me Lexie? Are we back in elementary school? Don't call me again, Tara. I made it pretty clear last time that I never want to speak to you again. Take a hint."

And she hung up.

Tara stood, staring at the phone, completely at sea.

"What's up, babe?"

Tara turned around at the sound of the voice and everything got that much weirder.

"_Dylan_?"

If she'd had to guess who would be standing there in the doorway, dressed in boxers and a plain grey t-shirt and looking half-asleep, the last person Tara would have thought of was Alex's dead boyfriend.

"You okay?" Dylan asked

"Who you calling?"

Habit kicked in.

"Oh, no-one. Just… checking."

"Can't sleep, huh? Kid keeping you up?"

Dylan slid an arm around her waist, stroking the baby bump affectionately. It took all of Tara's self control not to pull away and completely freak out.

This could not be real. It _couldn't_ be. So… she had to stay calm and figure this out. And because Lexie wasn't talking to her, she'd have to do it by herself.

"Don't worry, babe. Everything's gonna be fine. The doctor said so."

"Uh-huh."

Tara was glad Dylan couldn't see her face in the mirror.

"And we're seeing your mom tomorrow. That'll make you feel better."

For a second, everything seemed to slow down.

"What did you say?"

"I said, we're gonna see your mom tomorrow. You always seem calmer after you talk with her."

Alex not talking to her, that Tara could cope with. Even the idea that she herself was having a kid with a guy she knew to be dead, that she could deal with. But this?

"My… my Mom?"

"Yeah. You sure you're okay? You seem kinda spooked."

"I – think I must've had a bad dream."

Dylan smiled, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Coming back to bed?"

"In a minute."

"Ok, honey."

He shuffled away and it took all of Tara's remaining willpower not to slam the door behind him.

Trying to keep it together, she sat down on the closed toilet seat, shock pushing her close to hyperventilating. She tried to put her head between her knees and breathe evenly, but the bump – oh god, she was having a _baby_, what the _hell_ - got in the way and Tara had to settle for leaning back, closing her eyes and repressing as hard as was humanly possible.

Mom was alive? Really alive? Maybe… just maybe this was real. Alex had said djinn didn't grant wishes, but what if she was wrong? She'd admitted they were powerful. And getting Mom back, well, that was something she'd been wishing for since she was four years old.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: no, not mine, etc,etc,etc.<p>

And again, I used the transcript from twiztv as a basic outline to work from.

It has been pointed out to me that the fight the sisters have is more Season One than Season Two (I think I was channelling 'Scarecrow' at that point), but it worked out as a good way to separate them, and will make sense later on.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Next morning, Dylan woke to an empty bed and an incredibly strangely acting fiancée.

He tracked her down to where she was sitting on the sofa, hunched over a pile of photo albums. The laptop was open, with at least five windows running – he could see a couple of Google searches, a social networking site and yet more photos, namely family snaps.

He picked up a discarded photo album – open to a shot of himself and Tara on holiday, she proudly displaying her new engagement ring – and cast a worried eye over her. She didn't seem to have noticed him, too busy speed-reading captions on what he could see was an old family album, made up mostly of pictures of Tara and her sister. That wasn't good. Neither was the almost empty coffee cup beside the laptop.

"You been drinking coffee, babe? Hey, I don't wanna sound like your doctor, but you know that's bad for the kid."

Tara started, staring at him for a moment like she hadn't expected him to be there. Then she grimaced, one hand on her belly.

"It ain't good for me right now, either. I have heartburn like the end of the world and it won't stop kicking me."

Dylan picked up on the 'it' but decided to let that pass for the moment. He'd read a ton of pregnancy and baby books since they'd found out they were expecting, and they'd all said to expect some out-of-character behaviour, but this was pushing it. She'd seemed fine the day before. He decided to try for diplomacy.

"Well, what d'you expect? If someone gave you a jolt of caffeine and stuck you somewhere you couldn't move around, you'd probably kick a lot too."

Tara pulled a face.

"Pregnancy really sucks. I'm gonna take a shower."

Slamming the album shut, she got up, almost overbalancing as if she'd forgotten about the bump already.

Dylan caught her arm, but she pulled away.

"Everything okay, babe?"

"Oh, I'm just great. I turned into a beached whale, but I'm peachy."

She pushed past him, heading for the bathroom and Dylan tried not to take it personally. Obviously, this was tougher on her than him, and he had to be patient, but if she was gonna start hiding things from him…

This didn't seem like regular mom-to-be behaviour. For starters, she seemed to jump a mile every time she saw him, like she'd seen a ghost or something, and she didn't want him to touch her, which was definitely off. Pregnancy hormones had made Tara even more insatiable than ever, and that was saying something. Maybe most guys would love a fiancée who couldn't get enough of them, but it had been getting kind of exhausting.

Tara stood under the running water, trying to let it sooth her whirring mind. Part of her – a big part of her – had wanted to jump straight in the car and drive home as soon as she'd heard Dylan mention her mom. But she wanted answers to the other questions first. As to why she and Alex weren't speaking, well that was pretty darn obvious. It wouldn't be the first time one of Alex's boyfriends had preferred the older sister – the original over the imitation, Tara had liked to think of it – but this was all kind of creepy. Okay, so if the djinn had somehow granted an unspoken wish to have Mom back, then that would mean she and Lexie hadn't grown up hunting, but what had happened instead? The photo albums had thrown a little light on whatever alternate childhood they'd had instead, although Tara wasn't sure from this evidence whether their Dad was alive too.

It did seem, however, that she and Dylan had been together – and Tara threw up a bit in her mouth every time she thought about that – for a little over two years, had gotten engaged six months ago, after she'd found out she was pregnant and were planning the wedding here in Lawrence for after the baby was born. She didn't seem to have had any contact with Alex since Dylan had left her for Tara. Okay, that was enough thinking. Time to move.

She threw on a pair of maternity jeans, vest and a shirt, struggling to button it over the bump, before deciding the hell with it and leaving it open. It was only then that she noticed her amulet was missing, replaced instead with what seemed to be a St Christopher's. Huh.

She couldn't find her keys anywhere, and Dylan was giving her a decidedly odd look, which Tara tried to ignore. Just cos she'd woken up in this bats-arse universe didn't mean she had to play along all the time. But until she got her answers, maybe she needed him around.

"Looking for these?"

Dylan picked up a set of keys from a hook on the wall by the door. They were not the keys to the Impala and had some kind of plastic flower hanging off them, as if they belonged to a ditzy teenage Valley Girl or something.

"Those aren't mine."

"Sure they are. You really have got baby brain today, don't you?"

A horrible thought occured to Tara, and she was up and out the front door before Dylan could say another word.

The sight that greeted her was far, far worse than Tara could have imagined.

Her baby – her real baby, not this _thing_ in her belly – was nowhere to be seen. Parked outside the house instead was, well Tara didn't even know what to call it.

It was blue, baby blue to be precise and looked like the sort of thing soccer moms drove their kids to school in, all moulded and shiny and _bland_.

"See?" Dylan came up behind her, patting the bumper of the monstrosity.

"She's right here. Baby number one."

Tara stared.

"I'm gonna be sick."

She just about made it to the bathroom in time.

"Honey? You okay? I thought you'd gotten over the morning sickness."

"I'm fine. Just… give me a minute."

Tara splashed water on her face, trying to breathe normally.

_It'll be worth it if Mom's okay_, she told herself, even though a large part of her wailed in horror at the thought of driving whatever the hell that was in place of her beloved.

Shoving her feelings down, Tara walked back outside, trying to act like nothing was wrong.

"Do you know what happened to my– to the Impala?" she asked Dylan as she struggled to fit behind the wheel.

Dylan looked puzzled.

"What, your dad's old car? Your mom sold it, I think. Why d'you ask?"

"Never mind."

It didn't go too far in addressing the balance between this life and her old one, but Tara was glad to find a Smashing Pumpkins CD in the player – one of the few bands she and Lexie could agree on, even if their Dad hadn't shared their appreciation. Dylan winced as he recognised it, and Tara cranked the volume, a smile on her face as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Not much of a silver lining, but it would do.

Tara found that, in this reality or whatever was going on, she lived pretty close to her childhood home and it was hard not to get overwhelmed as she drove up. Last time she was here, she and Alex had nearly been killed by a poltergeist – would've been killed, no doubt, if it hadn't been for the lingering spirit of their mother. This time, her mom was there waiting for her, waving from the front door as she saw them pull up, alive and well and undoubtedly her mom.

Tara felt a lump in her throat and she couldn't get out the car fast enough.

Racing up the path, she threw herself into Mary Winchester's arms, struggling to hold back tears.

"Whoa! Tara, you okay?"

Mary looked over her daughter's head to her future son-in-law, who was walking up the path at a more normal rate. He shrugged.

"I'm okay… I'm great. How about you, Mom? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, honey. What's going on?"

Tara wanted this to be real, more than anything she'd ever wanted her whole life, but years of hunting had made her doubt everything.

"Mom, I need to ask you something. When I was little, what did you always tell me when you put me to bed?"

Mary looked her over, puzzled.

"Tara, I don't understand."

"Please, Mom. Just tell me."

"I – used to say that angels were watching over you."

Tara's heart pounded so hard, she thought it would burst right out of her chest. It really was her mother. It had been more than twenty years since she'd seen her last, but it really, really was.

"Mom – I don't believe it. Do you think that wishes can come true?"

"What?"

Mary was looking really worried now, and Tara knew that Dylan was sharing her expression.

" it. I'm just happy to see you, that's all."

"She's been crazy all day," Dylan cut in, trying to keep his tone light, teasing.

"Guess Moore Junior is to blame?"

Tara recoiled, surprising herself with the strength of her reaction.

"Winchester. Not Moore."

Dylan couldn't conceal the hurt on his face.

"Tara, baby, we talked about this. I know you're still upset about your dad and everything and I understand that changes how you feel about the name. I was the same when I lost my father, but…"

"Dad – Dad's dead?"

Tara's head whipped round to face her mother, whose expression went from concerned to someone who looked like they were genuinely about to call 911.

"He died in his sleep, honey. A year ago, you know that."

Tara rubbed her forehead, a tension headache springing up as she tried to analyse this.

"And the thing that killed him. What was it?"

"A stroke. What's going on, Tara? Did something happen?"

Relief flooded through her. Okay, so her wish had only returned one parent, but at least it had freed the other from Hell, and that meant she no longer had to deal with the knowledge that John had sold his soul to save her own life.

"No, no. Everything's fine. It's great. And… I'm glad. That it was peaceful, I mean. It sure beats the alternative. Can I have some water?"

Mary stepped back, leading them in and Tara went straight to the photos on display while Dylan fetched her a glass of water from the kitchen.

"Mom, was there ever a fire here? Up in the nursery?"

"No, never. Why do you ask?"

"I guess… I just thought there had been."

The photos were the kind every family had on display - school pictures (God, Lexie looked such a _nerd_ in her graduation picture), family outings and one of her Dad in a softball team uniform. Tara had often wondered what her Dad would have been like if he hadn't become a hunter, and this wasn't anything she'd ever envisioned.

"Wow. Softball, huh?"

"He loved that stupid team."

Mary's took on a melancholy expression that made Tara's heart twist. Why did their family have to be this way? What on earth could they have done to bring down such a sackload of misery and loss? Sure, they weren't the only ones to have lost people, but even when she had the chance to bring back a dead parent and start over, it meant that the other was still dead and, it seemed, her mother's life had come at the cost of an irreparable rift with Alex.

"Mom, I just… I'm sorry."

"What for?"

The puzzled expression was back.

"Everything. I mean, all the stuff I pulled as a kid, getting into trouble."

Tara didn't need to ask her mother if this was the case. Hunting or no hunting, she was still herself and she knew what that meant she'd been like as a teenager.

"And now – I mean, it must be so hard for you with, this situation with me and Dylan, and Alex not talking to me."

Mary flinched and Tara felt that twist again.

"Alexis will come around eventually. You two were so close when you were little, I can't imagine you'll be estranged forever."

Tara wasn't sure about that. She knew how stubborn Alex was, and even if she didn't technically know how all this had played out at the time, she didn't think Alex would just forgive and forget. The fight they'd had – or not had, depending on how this wish thing worked – in the car had made that pretty clear, when she'd referred to Dylan as someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. This wasn't like when they were at school and boys Alex liked were easily distracted by the older sister. Something clicked in Tara's mind and she nearly spilled the glass of water Dylan put in her hand. What if… what if this wasn't actually her wish? Getting Mom back, that was what Tara wanted, having had a normal childhood, without hunting but cosy domesticity, the apple-pie life with marriage and kids? That was Alex's thing. Had, somehow, the djinn granted an unspoken wish that was actually made by her sister rather than Tara herself?

The baby chose that moment to kick, and Tara felt a pang that her sister wasn't here to experience this with her, wouldn't be unless she could find a way to talk her round.

"Maybe when the baby's born, things'll be different," Mary continued.

"She won't want to miss out on her own niece or nephew growing up."

"No," Dylan cut in. "Family's important to her."

For some reason, this pissed Tara off, though she tried to keep it down. If he knew how important family was to Alex, then how the hell had he ended up proposing to and impregnating her sister? And why would Tara herself have stolen him, knowing as she did what he meant to Alex?

No, there had to be something more to this. She needed to find out more about djinn, and without her trusty geekgirl research sidekick, she'd have to do it herself, which meant giving her husband-to-be (oh _god_…) the slip at some point.

"Anyway," Mary said brightly, metaphorically sweeping the family drama under the rug. "Lunch is nearly ready. Come on you two."

Tara would never have easily admitted how little it would have taken to make her happy, in a world without hunting. Sitting down to lunch in her childhood home, served up by her living, smiling mother, it seemed, was all it took.

Mary handed her the salad, chatting comfortably with Dylan about his work – seemingly, when not dead, he had completed his MSc and was now a researcher at the University, which made Tara wonder all over again why such a geek would choose the dumb sister – sorry, the _unacademic_ sister - over the smart one. She'd picked up from clues around their house that, before being too pregnant had stopped her, she worked in a garage, mostly restoring classic cars, which made the monstrosity parked outside the house doubly revolting. Surely getting knocked up didn't mess with your head _that_ much?

"This is great, Mom!" she enthused, wolfing down the plate of food in front of her. She couldn't get used to how her body was swinging between nausea and borderline starvation, so she was making the most of being able to face food. And it was great – she'd gotten used to living on takeout and burgers, but her mother's cooking was as good as she thought she remembered from her childhood.

"It's just lasagne, Tara. Anyone'd think you never had it before?"

Tara concentrated on chewing so she wouldn't have to reply. Dylan squeezed her hand.

"Morning sickness reared its ugly head again earlier. I think Tara's just grateful she can keep anything down."

Tara realised he was being sweet and sympathetic, but that didn't stop her wanting to punch him for answering for her. This being in a relationship lark was harder than it looked.

Mary pulled a face.

"I remember that. I had it for about half my pregnancy with Tara. That and the fact she wouldn't ever keep still for more than five minutes at a time."

Dylan laughed.

"No change there."

Tara had no argument for that.

They chatted for a while, Tara occasionally trying to drop in subtle questions that puzzled her mother, although she answered everything Tara asked, no matter how strange it might seem a thing for her daughter to ask. Tara stored each nugget of information away carefully, putting together each piece into a jigsaw puzzle where, at least, she now had some idea what the picture would turn out to be. Patience was not a strength of hers, but she was learning. If she wanted this life to remain, in whatever form, she had to understand it, but if she pushed too hard, she was afraid it might vanish again and she wouldn't risk her mother's life again, not for anything.

After lunch was finished, they washed the dishes, which Tara was a little surprised to discover she didn't completely hate doing. It kept catching her out that this was her life now.

No demons, ghosts or wendigos. She had a home, a family, she didn't have to keep criss-crossing the country risking her life every single day kicking evil in the ass.

She could relax. It was so nice to just sit down and take care of herself for a minute.

Sure, there were a few things that needed sorting out – getting her sister to talk to her again, for a start – but it was preferable to, say, taking out a nest of vamps.

Wasn't it?

Tara shook herself. Of course it was. That was crazy. This would just take a little getting used to.

"Thank you for lunch, Mary."

Dylan gave his mother-in-law a kiss on the cheek as they left, and Tara didn't miss the significant look they exchanged as he did so, although she let it pass without comment. They were worried about her; that was understandable. To anyone but Tara herself, she had been acting crazy, and even Tara was starting to have doubts about herself.

"I need to swing by work," Dylan was saying. "You mind?"

Something pinged in Tara's mind – here was the opportunity she needed.

"No, that's cool. I need to stretch my legs. I might go for a walk round campus."

"Okay, babe. I got my cell if you need me."

"What, you think I'm going to go into labour here and now? No, I'll be fine."

It didn't take Tara long to find the guy she needed, an Anthropology professor, and she was glad to discover that having 'baby brain' hadn't affected her ability to lie like a politician.

Professor Asanteman was a little puzzled at her dropping by, but Tara was getting used to that.

"You know, I don't think I've seen you in my class before," he pointed out.

Tara gave him her best smile, wrapping one arm around the bump. She'd adjusted to the change in her centre of gravity, but the idea of what was inside the bump still had the potential to make her run screaming for the hills. You know, if it were possible to leave it behind when she ran off screaming, obviously. There was a whole lot of repressing going on.

"Well, I can't make every class, obviously," she charmed.

"But I love your lectures. You make learning fun!"

The guy chuckled, taking in her swollen stomach with an affectionate smile.

Tara had noticed the picture on his desk where two small boys swung from his neck and decided to play up the 'happy family' idea.

"So, what can I do for you? "

Tara took a deep breath.

"What can you tell me about Djinn?"

Thankfully, he considered the question with an air of professional interest, rather than questioning her mental health.

"Well, a lot of people believe the Djinn are very real. Muslims, especially; they're mentioned in the Koran-"

The last thing Tara wanted right then was another lecture like the ones she got all the time from her geek sister. That was one thing she didn't miss about not having Alex around.

"Uh huh. And the granting wishes thing?"

"What about it?"

"Do you think they can really do it?"

The professor gave her an odd look. So much for remaining professional.

"Um…no. No, I don't think they can really do it. You understand we're talking about mythic creatures?"

"Well, yeah, but I mean in the stories. Say you had a wish, but you never even said it out loud. Like, that a loved one never died or that something awful never happened."

Maybe it was something in her tone. Maybe it was just the projected vulnerability that her pregnancy gave her, but the professor stopped staring at her strangely and reverted to academic nerd.

"Supposedly, yes. Djinn are very powerful, almost god-like. They can alter reality however they want –- past, present, future. I imagine that would cover granting wishes, should they want to."

That hit the nail on the head.

"Yeah, why would they? If they're so powerful, why would a Djinn grant the wish of any schmuck who just wandered up? What if it's a self-defence thing? And how do they know what you'd wish for anyway? Maybe they're not really evil."

"Uh, miss?"

Tara realised she'd been hypothesizing out loud.

"Are you alright?"

"Everybody keeps asking me that. I'm fine. Can I borrow this?"

She snatched up the volume he'd been referring to and, with a dazzling smile, she whirled out of the office, hurrying down the stairs and out into the sunshine.

As she was hiding the tome in the trunk of the car, a flash of white caught her eye. Tara turned to see a young woman standing under a tree on the other side of the road. Something about her demanded Tara's attention – maybe it was the white dress, dazzling in the sunlight, but there was something odd about the girl herself. Tara took a step forward, looking to speak to the girl, find out what it was that was making her hunter instincts twitch, but a car full of bellowing fraternity types sped past, breaking the tension, and when Tara looked again, the girl was gone.

Dylan touched her shoulder.

"Tara? You okay, honey?"

Tara gave him a smile that made her look like the girl he'd fallen in love with once more, and, for a moment, his worries about her disappeared.

"I'm great. Let's go home."

Just being able to say that made Tara feel more relaxed than she had in a long time. Okay, so she had to give up the Impala (fixable, in the long term), and Lexie wasn't speaking to her (ditto), not to mention the issue of impending motherhood (ohgodohgodoh_god_), but she had a _home_. And, for the first time in more than twenty years, she had a mother. And if anyone was going to help her deal with having a baby, it was Mary Winchester. After all, she'd brought Tara up; if she could cope with that, she could cope with anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

They spent the afternoon assembling the flat-pack crib and finishing painting the nursery, which was more domesticated than Tara had ever thought she'd be able to cope with. But, regardless of her own feelings, she was having a baby. A real baby, a tiny human being who was going to need a lot of looking after and protecting. And that was something Tara thought she could manage.

Nursery rhymes and baby talk, no. Taking on anything that threatened the tiny scrap of life currently residing in her belly, yes. Dylan could pick up the slack on all the normal parenting stuff and then Tara could learn as she went. Hell, her dad had managed to raise two girls on his own (or not, as the case may be as of her wish), how hard could it be with just one in a world where you didn't hunt?

And then, just as they were finishing the painting (which she'd had to metaphorically fight tooth and nail to take part in; she was pregnant, not incapable), Tara discovered just what people had been talking about when they mentioned 'mood swings.'

"Hey, hey, what's this?" Was Dylan's startled response to his usually completely in control fiancée bursting into noisy tears.

"I don't know," Tara confessed, weeping profusely into his shirt.

"I just – this is really happening, isn't it? There's going to be a baby."

"Well, yeah. Is that what this is?"

"Kind of. I mean, this is all taking some getting used to. And, well, there's more."

"This is about Alex?"

Tara blew her nose, trying to avoid the astute look Dylan was giving her.

"No."

"Don't lie to me, Tara. I know you too well. And I saw all the photo albums you were looking at last night."

Tara held in a very bad word. Damn hormones; they even made lying more difficult.

"Okay, yes. A bit."

"Look, I know it's tough for you. You think I don't still feel guilty, coming between you two? And that's without mentioning how upset your mom got. But I made my choice, and it's you I love, Tara, for all your craziness. And Alex has to come to terms with that, sooner or later."

"It's not just that. I mean… This isn't gonna make a lick of sense to you. But I kind of feel like I've been given a second chance. And I need to make to most of it."

Dylan considered this.

"You're right. That doesn't make any sense. But then you've been coming out with a lot of stuff that makes no sense lately, so why should this be any different?"

Tara pulled a sour face but Dylan just laughed, affectionately.

"Come on, babe, it's okay. It'd worry me more if you weren't crazy. Just, promise me you won't start brooding about this again. Please? You know what the doctor said – if you're stressed, the baby feels it. Positive vibes."

He closed his eyes, putting both hands on the baby bump and pretending to send 'good thoughts' to his unborn child.

Tara found herself laughing, and she threw a painting rag at him.

"Hippy."

"Wacko," he responded, laughing too and he pulled her in for a kiss.

For a second, Tara considered pulling away - despite everything, she still thought of him as Alex's boyfriend, not hers – but then again, in this life, she'd agreed to marry him and was having his baby, so…

He was hot, if plainly a geek, and he was a good guy who put up with Tara being, well, Tara. Where else would she find that? May as well give it a try, right?

And she kissed him back.

That night, Winchester Junior was even more lively than it had been before, and Tara couldn't sleep. Remembering to avoid the coffee this time – although she did stand staring longingly at the beer in the fridge for a moment – she sat in front of the TV, flipping through the channels aimlessly.

Eventually, she came to a news channel and realised that she hadn't looked at the news for any reason other than to find a job in as long as she could remember and therefore had no idea what was going on in the world.

The 24 news channel cycled through a few items, then came up to a picture of what appeared to be a field full of people, holding candles. At the front was a sober faced reporter, addressing the camera.

"Today marks the anniversary of the crash of United Britannia Flight 424. Indianapolis residents held a candlelight vigil in memory of the 108 passengers who lost their lives."

Tara sat up, heart thudding, her breath catching in the throat.

"What? No, no. We stopped that crash."

It would have been hard to forget; one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. What should have been a relatively straightforward exorcism, made infinitely more difficult from being, what, 40,000 feet up in the air?

But the report continued, a picture of each victim of the crash, their name captioned beneath and a horrible suspicion crept up on Tara.

The laptop was still running; it didn't take long to confirm her worst fears.

All the names, cases she remembered. Without her and Alex, without John, they were all dead, and many more besides. She didn't want to attempt to trace the MO of the things she'd hunted to find out how many more victims there had been.

She didn't know how long she sat there, staring at the screen. The words she'd thrown at Alex during the fight they, technically, had never actually had, before the djinn had remade the world, came back to her.

"You're right, Lex, we can't save everyone. Does that mean we should just sit back and let the bad guys win? Give up and run off to college pretending there isn't a world of shit out there? Nothing we can do so why not just be selfish and who cares?"

That… wasn't fair. She hadn't deliberately chosen for this to happen. Yeah, of course she wanted this, a normal life, to a certain degree. But she'd never have just walked away from hunting, leaving evil to roam the world freely and allowing people to die. If this wish had been one she'd been allowed to think about, to cover all bases… but then, how could that be done? To wish for all monsters to disappear? Even if it were possible for one djinn to grant such a wish, it wouldn't, would it? For a start, that would be tantamount to suicide and genocide at the same time, and, oh this was making Tara's head hurt. She got up, clutching her temples, thoughts spinning.

Now what? She couldn't fix this, it was way too big. And she was on her own… John was dead, Alex was far away at Stanford and had never learned to hunt. No other hunter would even know Tara.

Movement caught Tara's eye once more and instinct kicked in. Grabbing a knife from the drawer, she hurried after it, trying for stealth but the bump prevented her from moving the way she wanted to. Trying to keep quiet so as not to wake Dylan, she followed the whispering that persistently remained at the edge of her perception, through to the hall closet. God, she missed having proper weapons to hand.

Bracing herself, she threw open the closet door – and was confronted by the impossible vision of three bodies, clearly dead and horribly mutilated, hanging from their wrists among the coats and jackets. Tara's pulse sped up, her every sense screaming danger but there was nothing to fight. She spun around, expecting to be attacked at any second – and the girl was there again, the one from campus. This time, however, her dress was ruined, torn and covered in grime, her face bruised and smeared with dirt.

She looked like she was trying to speak, her mouth moving but no words coming out, then she flickered and vanished.

Tara was completely lost by now. What in the name of all that was good and holy was going on? Was she being haunted by someone she didn't save? Or rather, had saved until this retcon meant they died anyway?

She turned back to the closet, but the hanging corpses were gone. Tara slammed the closet door, too shaken to be able to process it all.

"Babe?" Dylan stuck his head out the bedroom door, eyes widening in surprise as he saw Tara standing in the hall, clutching a knife.

"What's going on?"

"I heard something," was Tara's almost honest response. "I – I thought there was someone breaking in. But it's nothing."

"Are you okay? You're shaking."

Dylan took the knife from her hand, sliding an arm around her waist to guide her away.

Tara let him.

The next morning, after a sleep broken by nightmares and a sense of overwhelming wrongness, Tara had had enough. Dylan had gone into work, leaving her to kick her heels at home. She thought of going to see her mother, but then she thought again.

It was a short drive to the cemetery, and Tara found what she was looking for easily.

She barely remembered visiting Mary's grave, back when she'd had one, and it was strange now to think that John had one now. She and Alex had burned his remains, before, as he'd asked.

"Hey, Dad."

Awkwardly, Tara knelt down in front of the headstone.

"I – I wish you were here. I know we didn't always agree -"

(boy, was _that_ an understatement)

"But I could use your help here. The old you, that is, not the guy who played softball and died in his sleep."

A sad smile played over her face.

"It's - they're all dead. Everyone we saved, you, me and Alex - they're all dead. And some girl is haunting me, like my old life is coming after me or something, like it doesn't want me to start again, to try and be happy."

Tara sighed, tears starting up in her eyes and she laid a hand against the cold stone.

"I think I know what you'd say, if you were you. 'Go hunt the Djinn. It put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness over all those people's lives? No contest.'

That about right?"

Of course, there was no reply and Tara felt her heart twist.

"But why, Dad? Why me? Why is it my job to save these people? What about us, huh? Mom's not supposed to live her life? Or Dylan? Alex isn't supposed to go to college? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad?"

Even if John had been there, would it have helped? Or Alex? She knew, had known even before coming here, that was what she had to do. If there was any chance, any at all, that killing the djinn would set things right, then she had to take it, and that was all there was to it.

Tara rested her forehead against the headstone for a moment, steeling herself.

But as she got to her feet, the most incredible tearing pain ran through her, in her belly and Tara felt blood rush out of her.

She didn't have to be a doctor to know what that meant.

"Are you alright, miss?"

The groundskeeper, who had been keeping a concerned eye on the pretty young woman crying at her father's grave, hurried over as Tara doubled up, grabbing the headstone for support.

Tara shook her head, gasping in pain as she struggled to get control over what was happening to her.

"Call 911!" he yelled out to his colleague, dropping his rake and grabbing hold of Tara.

* * *

><p>Dylan raced into the hospital, frantic, but staff wouldn't let him in to see Tara right away, not until the doctors were done. When they finally did, it was to find Tara sitting in bed in a private room, crying silently. That was enough to tell him what he didn't want to know.<p>

Mary met him outside the room.

"How – how is she?"

Mary shook her head; it was clear she'd been crying too.

"The doctor said she'll be alright, physically. Sometimes these things… just happen."

Dylan bit down on a rising fury at this colossal unfairness. What had he and Tara ever done to deserve this? Certainly their baby had never had the chance to do anything.

A nurse came out of the room and Dylan took the opportunity to go in.

Tara didn't look up. Dressed in a hospital gown, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she looked younger and more vulnerable than he ever remembered her looking before. If anyone else had ever hurt her like this, he would have killed them, but this…

He knew everyone thought he was kind of soft, a nerd not a fighter, that Tara was the strong one, but that didn't mean he didn't want to protect her and their baby, any way he could.

He remembered the first time he'd been to the Winchester house, after leaving Alex for Tara. John had been the one he'd been worried about; the ex-Marine, the mechanic who had taught Tara all she knew. Surely he wouldn't just accept a guy who'd hurt one of his daughters into the family? But, it turned out, it was Mary he'd really had trouble with. John loved his girls, and naturally he had the father's reaction of distrusting any guy who came into their lives, but it was Mary who took him to one side and verbally tore a strip of him. She didn't do it by yelling, or threatening. She just said it, completely calm, and with utmost conviction, that she knew he hadn't deliberately set out to hurt Alex and upset the harmony – as it was – within the family, but she would not stand for any more. He had one chance, and that was it. If he screwed up, there would be no forgiveness, no understanding and he could not expect any kindness from them again. Which, he reflected, was fair enough, seeing as how she was actually welcoming him into her house at the same time.

Tara was staring into nothing, knuckles pressed to her mouth in a gesture he recognised as one she only did when trying to hide her feelings, to keep something pushed down inside. But the tear streaks on her face betrayed those feelings far more than any words could, or needed to. So Dylan said nothing either. Just went over, sat beside her on the bed, and put his arm around her.

And they sat there together, and they mourned the life that had been lost before either had been given the chance to meet it.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Tara was released from hospital the next morning, after the doctors were satisfied that she would suffer no physical after-effects from the miscarriage. Well, they'd called it a miscarriage. At six months pregnant, it hadn't felt that way to Tara, who had previously associated the word with losing a baby you'd barely begun to carry. Not to imply that that was a lesser tragedy to endure, but Tara had felt this baby kick, move within her, started to get an idea of the personality it would develop, begun to visualise what it would be like when it was born. To lose it in such a way… Tara had endured many losses in her family, her friends, but this was something else. This was a life she'd carried within her own body, vowed to protect and yet there had been nothing she could do.

Why had the djinn given her this life only to have it ripped away from her again?

She'd taken the leaflets the nurse had given her about counselling, and then dumped them in the bin as soon as she got back to the house she and Dylan shared. She didn't want to sit and talk to some stranger about how this made her feel. She wanted to hunt down and kill the sonofabitch that had put her in this position in the first place. It had given her back Mary, and she supposed she should still be thankful for that.

But it wasn't enough.

Just a day earlier, Tara would have felt differently. Now, she sat in bed and she read through the book she'd 'borrowed' from Professor Asanteman, the computer next to her. There wasn't much to go on, but it seemed she'd been right about the silver knife, dipped in lamb's blood. Well, she didn't have her usual arsenal, but she had a silver knife, part of the silverware she and Dylan had been given as an engagement present from his mother. The lamb's blood should be easy enough to get hold of, if she could only lose her fiancée long enough to run to the butcher's shop.

It was understandable that he would want to be with her now, but she didn't want him there. Had had enough of the hushed, worried conversations she'd half-overheard between him and her mother.

Physically, she had almost recovered – apart from killer stomach cramps that bent her in half whenever they hit, they were a bitch – and she was confident that soon enough, she'd be in good enough shape to take on the djinn. She didn't care how powerful it was. It was toast.

It would have been easier if she didn't have to be on her own. But tough. She was alone, and wallowing wasn't going to help.

So she put a plan together. She waited until Mary went home, then sent Dylan out on a pointless errand, asking him to fetch her ice-cream, like she was a little girl home sick, asking for a treat. As soon as he was gone, she stalked through the house, sorting through the silverware until she found a knife that should do the job, putting together an elementary weapons bag. She dressed with cold deliberation, ignoring any lasting cramps, putting aside the maternity jeans in favour of an old pair, teamed with heavy boots and a shirt she could now button with no trouble whatsoever.

Just as she was finishing her preparation, there was a knock at the door.

Tara felt a flash of irritation at this interruption. It couldn't be Dylan, or Mary, as they both had keys, so who else would be calling?

She opened the door, preparing to tell whoever it was to get lost – and was completely taken aback to see Alex standing on her doorstep.

Alex did not look comfortable to be there; indeed, she was clearly bottling up the anger she had held for a long time. But she was Tara's sister, and despite everything that had apparently happened between them, she had gotten on a plane and flown out to see her when she'd heard what had happened.

For a moment, neither sister moved. Then Tara stepped forward, and put her arms around Alex. Lexie stiffened momentarily, then accepted the hug.

Tara knew this wasn't the sister she knew, but it was as close as she was going to get. That would have to do.

Finally, she let go.

"Did Mom call you?"

Alex nodded.

"So did Dylan."

That surprised Tara, almost as much as the fact Alex had come to see her.

"Just for the record," Alex continued. "I'm still really mad at both of you. But – what happened. I'm sorry, Tara."

"Me too."

There was an awkward silence.

"What's with the silverware?" Alex asked, brow furrowing as she took in the knife still in Tara's hand. Tara hadn't noticed she still had it.

"You don't want to know."

"You have a bag packed. Are you – are you going somewhere?"

Damn Lexie and her eyes that never missed a thing.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Tara."

The anger was surfacing in Alex's voice now.

"I just got on a plane and flew in from California to see you, because I thought you might want to see me. Mom and your _fiancé_ thought that'd be the case, so I don't want to hear your bullshit."

"I'm glad to see you. Really I am. But… there's something I have to do and it's best if you don't know what it is."

"Why?"

"Because you'd probably try and stop me."

Tara picked up her bag and tried to brush past her sister, but was seized by a cramp that felt like it was trying to cut her in half.

Alex caught hold of Tara's arm, holding her up.

"Woah! You sure you should be out of bed?"

"I'm fine," was Tara's terse reply.

"Well, plainly you're not. Come on, T, if there's somewhere you have to be, then I'm coming with you."

Tara noted her sister's abbreviated use of her name, and that weakened her resolve.

"No. I can't ask you to do that. It could be – dangerous. You could get hurt."

Alex met her eyes.

"What, and you think telling me that means I'd let you go off on your own? Tara, you just lost a baby. I don't know what that does to a person, but I know you're not in any fit state to run off doing god know what."

Tara slumped against the doorframe, suddenly feeling all her resistance drain away.

"Ok, fine. But we're taking your car, and I'm driving."

Thankfully, Alex didn't argue any further.

They got a few miles out of Lawrence, then Alex couldn't hold it in any longer.

"So… what the hell is all this? And don't think I didn't notice you didn't tell Mom or Dylan you were leaving."

"It's not like that. I – wanted to protect them. I should be doing this alone; you shouldn't be here, Lex."

"Well, here I am. So, tough. Now what's going on?"

Tara sighed.

"Just a minute. I have to make a stop."

She pulled the rental car over and went into the butcher's, leaving Alex sitting, confused, in the car.

"What the hell is that?" she asked, as Tara got back in, holding a brown paper bag.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah, nothing. "

This time it was Alex's turn to sigh.

"Tara…"

She reached out and took it from her sister.

"Lex, you don't wanna do that."

Alex opened the bag, and recoiled in disgust at what she found inside.

"What the hell, Tara? Why on earth would you need a jar of blood?"

The look she gave Tara said quite clearly that she thought her sister had lost her mind.

"Like I said, you don't really wanna know.

"Uh, as of right now, I do really wanna know. I really, _really _do."

Tara gave up.

"Okay, you asked, so I'm telling you. I need lamb's blood to anoint a silver knife so I can use it to kill a djinn."

Silence filled the car. A huge silence, crammed with the potential to turn just about any way.

"Okay," Alex said slowly.

"And what exactly does any of what you just said mean?"

"Exactly how it sounds."

"Well, it sounds completely crazy!"

"And it is. But that doesn't stop it from being right."

Alex turned this over in her mind.

"Tara, have you considered that you may be having a breakdown? And I mean that in all seriousness."

"It's for real, Lex. There are things out there in the dark. Bad things, _nightmare _things. And people have to be saved, and if I don't save them, nobody will. Right now, there isn't anybody else."

"Let me call Mom. Or Dylan. You need help, Tara. Really."

"I'm sure I do. But there isn't anyone who can help me. Maybe you could, if you weren't who you're supposed to be."

"Tara, this makes no sense. You must see that."

"Uh huh. But it's still the truth."

Silence fell once more.

"Look, whatever stupid thing you're about to do, you're not doing it alone, Tara. I'm staying with you."

Tara kept her eyes on the road, not wanting to see the expression on her sister's face.

"Why would you do something like that?" she asked.

"Because, in spite of everything, you're still my sister."

It was a very long drive, and Tara thought she'd struggle to keep awake, having barely slept in the last few days. But it was Alex who dropped off, staying asleep until they reached their destination. Tara was hoping that, despite everything else that had changed, the djinn hadn't moved on, and it seemed she was right. Leaving her sister sleeping in the passenger seat, she crept around the building, noticing the same signs she'd seen the last time she'd been there. So she went back to the car to retrieve her weapon.

Alex stirred, coming around to the frankly disturbing sight of her sister liberally coating the blade of the silver knife in blood.

"You really are serious about this, aren't you?"

"All my life, I was never more serious."

Alex met her sister's eyes and saw that was the truth.

"And this… thing you're after. It's in there?"

She nodded at the almost derelict building, looming out of the darkness.

Tara nodded.

"Okay then."

The sisters went inside, Tara leading the way with cold determination.

Alex forced down her fear. Whether any of this was real, or all in Tara's head… well, she had to do this. To be there. Tara had betrayed her, in one of the worst ways a sister could, but the ties between them went way back, long before Dylan had come along. And, if nothing else, she owed it to Mom to look after Tara.

The first room was mostly empty, except for some scattered junk.

"Tara, are you sure this is the place?"

"Shh."

Tara stopped, holding up a hand.

Alex strained her ears, finally hearing a faint crying

"What – what's that?"

"Little sister. Stay behind me and keep your mouth shut."

Alex had never seen Tara look that way. Could quite happily have gone all her life never seeing that. The same went for creeping around abandoned factories at midnight, and it only got worse.

The next room didn't reveal who they could hear crying, but, to Alex's utter horror, held three bodies. They were strung up by their wrists, lined up like this was a slaughterhouse and they were clearly dead.

It took all she had not to cry out, closely followed by a strong urge to throw up.

Tara, conversely, didn't seem as much as surprised. Almost as if she'd been expecting to find them there.

The next room, smaller than the previous, held another body, but this one wasn't dead and this time, Tara did react.

"So that's who you are. Why were you haunting me?"

It was a girl, Alex could see that much, despite the layers of dirt and dried blood. To add to her sense of overwhelming horror and disgust, she could see some kind of IV line running from the girl's neck, slowly draining her blood into a bag and the need to vomit increased. Alex put her hands over her mouth, keeping it together by a thread.

Tara, reacting to something Alex couldn't hear, grabbed her and pulled her back into a corner, hiding the two of them just in time, as another figure came into the room.

It was tall, hairless, covered in weird tattoos and emanating from it was a sense of evil like Alex had never felt before. Any doubts she'd had about what Tara had said evaporated as the _thing_ approached the girl, who was still crying softly.

"Please, where's my dad? Please, no…don't...where's my dad?"

Alex's first impulse was to run out and grab the thing, save the girl, but Tara, perhaps sensing this, held a tight grip on her arm, keeping her hidden.

"Shh," said the thing. "Sleep…sleep."

It ran a hand over the girl's face, eyes glowing a weird electric blue, and the girl slumped into unconsciousness once more.

To Alex's ever increasing horror, the thing lifted one end of the IV line up to its mouth and proceeded to drink her blood and she just couldn't keep it in anymore.

It was just a small cry, but Tara clapped a hand over Alex's mouth and the thing didn't seem to hear. Finished its meal and went back out.

Tara waited until she heard its footsteps go up the stairs, before letting Alex go. She walked over to the girl, thoughts colliding with each other as she put the pieces together.

"She didn't know where she was. She thought she was with her father. What… what if that's what the Djinn does? It doesn't grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has."

Alex didn't understand what the hell Tara was talking about, but she could recognise clear and present danger when she saw it.

"Tara, come on. That thing, it could come back. Please?

But Tara wasn't listening.

"I wanted this to be real, at first. Wanted it so bad. Mom was alive, and I thought, okay. Everything else would fall into place, sooner or later. But now… none of this is real, is it?"

"Tara, you're scaring me. And we're stood in a room of corpses killed by something out of a horror film. Please, come on!"

"She's not dead though. The djinn was keeping her alive, and dreaming. So what if…

what if all this is in my head? I mean…maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid and then just feeds on us, slow."

"Tara, an hour ago I would've said that makes no sense. Now, I just want to get the hell out of here, before we end up like her."

"I think it's too late for that, Lexie. I already am. And you know what? I don't think even you're real."

"Tara, please. Okay, so you're right about the whole evil thing, I get it. But this is real, I'm real. Now if we don't shift, we will be dead, okay?"

But Tara didn't budge.

"There's one way to be sure, Lexie."

She lifted the blood-coated knife, staring at it as if entranced and Alex got even more scared.

"Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?"

"You ever hear that old wives' tale, about how if you die in a dream, you wake up?"

"Tara, no! Come on, we'll call the cops. They can come and rescue the girl, stop that thing. But this is crazy! You're gonna _kill_ yourself?"

Tara shrugged.

"Maybe. Or maybe this is the only way out. I'm gonna wake up - one or the other."

"Look…this isn't a dream, alright? I am here with you now, and you are about to kill yourself!"

"No, I'm pretty sure. Sure enough, anyway."

She turned the blade so it pointed towards her. It hovered briefly over her stomach, then Tara lifted it level with her heart.

Alex had her hands stretched out towards her sister, utter panic on her face.

"Wait!"

Movement caught Tara's eye once more, and she saw, stood in the corner of the room, her mother. The room flickered, shifted and Dylan was there too.

Alex dropped her hands back down, her expression changing to one Tara recognised all too well; pissed off.

"You're pretty smart, aren't you big sister? Figured it all out."

"You couldn't have left well enough alone?" Dylan added. "You could've been happy."

"With my sister's dead boyfriend?" Tara spat, real anger rising now she knew none of this was real.

"Put the knife down, honey," Mary tried, but Tara wouldn't look at her.

"You're not my mom. You're not Dylan, and you're not my sister."

Alex's expression changed again, her eyes glittering with malice.

"No, I'm not. But you believed it. You wanted to, and so you did."

"I wanted my mom back. I wanted to try out having a real life, away from hunting, yes. But the rest of it? Where the hell did that come from?"

Alex – or whatever it was wearing Alex's appearance – reached out and stroked down the side of Tara's face.

"You're so easy to read. What you want and what you're afraid of, right there on the surface. Your jealousy of your sister, your fear of losing her, hurting her. Being responsible for another human life – it's too much isn't it?"

Tara's spare hand found its way to her belly, landing where the baby had been.

"Why?"

The malice sparked, electric blue like that of the djinn.

"When I get me a Hunter, you think I just let them dream nice, warm, safe dreams like everybody else? No. I tailor your dreams extra special."

Fury came flooding in. She'd started to believe it was real. She'd begun to want that baby, and losing it had been like, well, like losing another family member. The djinn had given her back her mother, only to take her again, it had given her a child, only to snatch that away too. But maybe, just maybe, in separating her from her sister in her dream, that had been enough. Without Alex, she was on her own, and that meant what did she have to lose?

"Screw you."

Tara raised the knife again. Held her breath, and stabbed.

* * *

><p>"Tara! <em>Tara<em>!"

Tara heard her sister calling from what felt like a million miles away. She was aware, gradually, that she was no longer dreaming. Her wrists hurt. Her head hurt.

And then there Alex was, the real Alex, right in front of her, shaking her.

"Come on, idiot, wake up!"

"_lexie?"_

"Tara, oh thank god! Come on, wake up!"

Alex carefully pulled the needle from Tara's neck and started trying to cut through the ropes holding her, using Tara's own silver knife.

"I thought I lost you there."

Tara shook her head, which still hurt a lot.

"You almost did. How d'you find me?"

Alex looked shifty.

"I, uh, had a feeling you were in trouble. You didn't answer your cell, so…"

Weak as she was, Tara couldn't help herself.

"You being psychic girl again, huh?"

"Don't knock it, sis. Saved your ass, huh?"

Tara saw movement behind Alex and realisation shook off the last of whatever it was the djinn had done to her.

"Alex!"

Alex slashed through the last of Tara's bonds, whirling round to confront the djinn, who was advancing on the sisters, hissing with malevolence.

Tara's legs gave way; after who knows how long she'd been strung up, she was in bad shape. But she couldn't give in now. Not after what this _thing_ had done to her.

Lexie was giving as good as she got, but this thing was powerful, Tara remembered that, and it threw her sister across the room, crashing into a pile of empty crates.

Lexie didn't get back up, and Tara drew on every reserve of strength she had.

The blood on the blade wasn't so fresh anymore, but it was a silver knife nonetheless, and when she had to, Tara Winchester could move real fast.

The blade slammed into the djinn's chest, the two of them falling down.

Tara pinned the dying creature to the ground, yanking the knife back out.

"You… you shouldn't have done that. You made me care about that baby. I _felt_ it. And then you took it away. You deserve so much worse than this."

She raised the knife once more, stabbing the djinn again, and again, and again.

There was a final spark of blue that ran through its whole body; the djinn convulsed, and then it died.

Tara got unsteadily to her feet, her green eyes cold and hard.

Somehow, that didn't seem enough.

Tara spat on the corpse at her feet.

"I hope you rot in hell, you son of a bitch."

She limped over to Alex, who was stirring, hoping that Tara hadn't noticed that, although stunned, she'd been conscious the whole time, had heard everything Tara had said.

Without a word, she let Tara help her to her feet, and they went back to the other girl, who was very still.

Tara reached out, and saw a tear spill down the girl's face.

"She's still alive. Help me get her down."

Alex took the knife from Tara's hand, and started to cut the girl's ropes.

The girl stirred as Tara removed the needle and IV, starting to cry once more.

"Shh. It's okay, I got you. We're gonna get you out of here, okay? I've got you…I've got you."

Much later, holed up in yet another motel room, Alex called the hospital.

"Okay. Thank you so much for the update. Okay, bye."

She hung up, a relieved expression on her face.

"The girl's been stabilized. There's a good chance she'll pull through," she told Tara.

Her sister was sat on the bed, turning her silver ring over and over in her hand like she was rehearsing a magician's trick.

"That's good."

And Alex went right back to being worried again, at Tara's listless tone.

"So… how about you? You alright?"

There was a pause.

"Yeah, I'm alright."

Alex struggled with herself, wanting to ask Tara about what she'd overheard, but Tara continued.

"You should've seen it, Lex. Our lives, if Mom never died and we never grew up hunting."

"That's what the djinn does, then? Feeds you this perfect fantasy while it feeds on you?"

Tara shook her head.

"No, no perfect anything. It wasn't even a wish, really. I mean, I wanted Mom back, and it read that in my mind. But it knew I was a Hunter, so I got the twisted version. I don't know, maybe it keeps up some kind of link with its prey while we're dreaming and it wanted to keep screwing with me."

"But… it wasn't real, Tara. And you dug yourself out, in the end."

"Sure as hell felt real, while I was there."

"It's dead now, Tara. And we know how they operate now, how to kill them, if we meet any more. You… you won't have to go through that again."

Tara shook her head, not disagreeing but as if shaking something off and she got up, slipping the ring back on her finger.

"At least it wasn't you. You've been through enough, Lexie, and I'm sorry. For everything I said. If – if I really could get a wish, you know it'd be to keep you safe, right?"

"Tara-" Alex began, uncomfortable, but Tara ran right over her.

"No, Lexie, I mean it. You're family, you're all I got left. I wouldn't ever mean to hurt you, and I'd do anything for you. I need you to know that, no matter what other crap I might come out with."

"I do know that. And just 'cos I still think about what I could've had, what might have been… it doesn't mean I don't know what you do for me already."

Alex knew she could well regret not pursuing what had happened to Tara within her dream, trying to understand what she'd been through, but she also knew that if Tara didn't want to talk about something, then wild horses couldn't drag it out of her. There'd be time enough. And in the meantime, well, they were family. They stuck by one another. Somehow, it'd work itself out.

Tara pushed her hands through her hair,

"Alright, enough emoting. I need a beer. Seems like forever since I had one."

"Sure. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Final Disclaimer: Again, none of this is really mine, but anything you don't recognise, I'm claiming as mine!<p> 


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